


A Grown Up Christmas Wish

by Sandyclaws68



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Christmas, Established Relationship, Gen, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Viktor is a total sap, Yuuri secretly loves him for it, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9051217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandyclaws68/pseuds/Sandyclaws68
Summary: An elf costume, a party, birthday wishes, and one scratchy, prickly beard all combine to give Yuuri both the worst and best Christmas he's ever experienced.





	

Yuuri hated that damned beard.

He didn't hate the reason for it; that was actually kind of sweet. When they had arrived home after Yuuri's record-breaking (and silver medal winning) performance at the Grand Prix Final Yuuko had begged Viktor to at least try and grow it so he could be Santa Claus for the Ice Castle Children's Christmas party. Viktor, needless to say, had readily agreed. During the intervening two weeks the beard had grown thick and full, every bit as shiny as the hair on his head, and Viktor began to look more and more like a proverbial Russian bear.

The problem was in the fact that it was nowhere near as soft as it looked. And at that precise moment it was scratching against the back of Yuuri's neck, just above the collar of the t-shirt he slept in.

“Viktor,” he whispered as he tried to shift away from his clingy lover. Long arms tightened around his torso and held him in place as Viktor sleepily murmured. “Viktor.” He spoke a little louder, but with almost the same result. The only difference was that this time he managed to wake Makkachin, who immediately jumped up on the bed and lay beside Yuuri on the opposite side from his master.

Which effectively trapped Yuuri between the poodle's soft coat and Viktor's almost unbearably warm body. And with the beard still rubbing uncomfortably on his neck. He sighed in exasperation and managed to roll over onto his back, catching the half-smile on Viktor's face before he managed to school his face back to a blank.

Yuuri felt a grin working at one corner of his mouth. “I know you're awake,” he said, reaching out and pinching the other man in the side. Viktor managed to turn his yelp of surprise into a cough, but only just. Then his arms tightened around the younger man even more, tugging him close and pressing their bodies together from shoulders to hips. He bent his head with intent to kiss, and Yuuri pulled back as best he could. “No,” he stated, turning his head away for good measure.

Viktor chuckled, a low, pleased sound that never failed to chase shivers up Yuuri's spine. “And why not?” he whispered. “Don't tell me you're suddenly developing issues with morning breath?”

He shook his head while still managing to keep his face averted. “No, it's not that,” Yuuri said, peeking at his lover out of the corner of his eye. Even blurry from the lack of his glasses he could see the smug grin developing.

“Then I wonder what the problem could be,” Viktor went on, musingly. “You don't exactly make a habit of refusing my. . . attentions.” His voice dropped on that last word, and Yuuri closed his eyes in a prayer for strength as warmth pooled in his belly. “Could it be. . .?”

Viktor never finished that question, he just dropped his head and rubbed his face against Yuuri's neck, who screeched and did his best to wriggle away from the scratchy beard, laughing the entire time. No, no. . .” he gasped out. “Viktor, NO!” His voice rose to an unacceptable level when his lover pulled up his t-shirt and rubbed his beard against the soft skin of Yuuri's stomach. Makkachin barked once, sharp and loud, apparently convinced this was a new game, and leaped over Yuuri to land on his master. Viktor's breath escaped him in one explosive burst when sixty pounds of poodle made contact with his chest and he drew away from Yuuri just the tiniest bit.

“That's what you get for torturing me,” Yuuri laughed, tapping the Russian on the nose with one finger, then melting internally as soon as Viktor put on his best sexy (albeit fake ) pout.

“Are you sure I can't convince you to ignore the beard for just. . .” He leaned in a bit closer. “One. . .” Close enough for their lips to almost touch. “ _Beze_?”

When Yuuri caved it wasn't much of a surprise. Russian words, spoken in that gravelly purr, would always be his weakness.

****~**~**~**~**~****

“I am not wearing that. No. No way.” Yuuri crossed his arm over his chest with a scowl.

“Come ooooooon, Yuuri-kun! It'll mean so much to the children!” Yuuko dangled the hanger in front of his eyes, grinning maniacally. “It'll mean so much to me!”

Yuuri took a step back from his long-time friend and eyed the costume with distaste. The green and red tunic, pointy-toed shoes and floppy, belled hat did not exactly fit his new-found image of confidence and sexuality, but he knew himself well enough to realize that if it was important to Yuuko he would probably give in. Not without a fight, mind.

“You and Viktor will look adorable together, I just know it!” Yuuko all but squealed, causing Yuuri's scowl to deepen. “And Christmas is a lovers' holiday,” she concluded with a wink.

“Are you trying to convince me or irrevocably talk me out of it?”

Yuuko batted her eyelashes at him, the very picture of innocence (that didn't fool anybody). Yuuri pushed his glasses up enough to pinch the bridge of his nose, working to stave off a headache. “Why are you so hell bent on making such a production out of Christmas, anyway?” he asked. “I've known you since you were ten years old and you've never been that interested in all of these Western Christmas traditions.” That was certainly true; her grandfather was a Shinto priest and not amiably disposed to either Christian holidays or over-zealous commercialization. He looked around the festively decorated lobby of the Ice Castle, eyes lingering on the enormous tree before he heard her sigh beside him.

“I just thought it would be nice for the girls, every now and again. And the other children in town,” she explained.” A new experience, a chance to learn a few things about other parts of the world. That's not a such a bad motive, is it?”

Yuuri silently agreed, but he wasn't going to tell her that just yet. “And here I thought you just wanted to annoy me by getting Viktor to grow a beard.”

“Weeeeeelllll. . .”

“Yuu-chan!”

She laughed. “Okay, okay, I didn't do it to annoy you. But I figured why not take advantage of a silver-haired man while I had the chance?”

“You. Are. Horrible.”

“More or less,” Yuuko readily agreed, grin full of mischief. “Oh! That reminds me of another reason why you need to do this!”

Yuuri rubbed one of his temples. “I'm afraid to ask, considering -” He put on his best falsetto voice. “ 'You and Viktor will look adorable together!'.”

“You will. I stand by that. But the party won't go very well if Santa can't understand what some of the children are asking for, so his elf will need to interpret!” She shoved the hanger containing the costume into his arms. “Go try it on; I want to make sure any needed alterations get done on time.” She shoved him toward the locker room.

He went, but not without a substantial amount of grumbling. And just inside the door he was all but jumped by Viktor, dressed in red velvet trimmed with white fur and a pillow shoved inside the costume's jacket. “I knew you'd agree!” he said, sounding disturbingly like Yuuko's most excited squeal. He caught Yuuri up in his arms, pressing kisses to his cheeks. “You'll be wonderful!” he exclaimed, sliding his lips across a warm cheek. “The sexiest elf at the North Pole,” he whispered in Yuuri's ear.

Yuuri pushed away slightly, as always irritated by the beard scratching his skin. He looked down to Viktor's abdomen. “I think you'll need more than one pillow to achieve fat and jolly,” he commented.

The Russian looked offended. “So mean, Yurochka! I am always jolly! And maybe I just need sufficient katsudon for the rest.”

“You can hardly eat enough in the next four days to achieve the desired result,” Yuuri pointed out, turning away and tugging his sweatshirt over his head. His arms were still in the sleeves when he felt Viktor push against his back, walking him forward till his front was pressed against the closest row of lockers. “Viktor. . .”

“Maybe I had some other katsudon in mind,” he whispered, feathering a row of kisses across Yuuri's shoulders as his hands came to rest on the smaller man's hips.

Feeling the familiar heat that Viktor's proximity always brought Yuuri tried to inject some reason into the situation. “Yuuko is probably right outside the door, waiting for us,” he said, voice husky with the sudden rush of desire.

Viktor laughed, drawing his hands up Yuuri's stomach to tease his nipples. “I doubt that; she knows you and I very well, after all.”

“VIKTOR!”

****~**~**~**~**~****

By the time Christmas Eve arrived Yuuri was fully resigned to his fate, both as Santa's elf and a man in possession of one prickly bearded boyfriend. He managed to keep up his facade of reluctance, but in truth he was enjoying the party at the Ice Castle. The joy on the faces of all of the children was infectious, and the joy on Viktor's face only slightly less so.

A large part of that was due to the surprise guests that had joined the crowd at Yu-topia two days before. Despite the briefness of their interactions at both the Rostelecom Cup and the Grand Prix final Yuuri felt that he had found a kindred spirit in Mila Babicheva so he hadn't hesitated to invite her to Hasetsu for Christmas. And, he had slipped into the conversation, if she wanted to bring along a certain blond-haired, loud-mouthed teenager no one would object.

Mila had laughed and promised to do exactly that, even, she claimed, if she had to stuff the spitting kitten into her luggage. And Plisetsky was exactly that – spitting mad – when he stepped off the train. But Yuuri had anticipated that and made sure that Yuuko and the triplets were there to greet him and that a steaming serving of katsudon was waiting when they arrived at the onsen.

Now Yuri sat on one of the benches in the lobby of Ice Castle, a noticeably sulky cast to his features. He wasn't actively sulking, though, because Mila had quite effectively threatened him just before they arrived. “If you ruin this evening for one single child I will never make pirozhki for you again!” she had sworn, laughing at the look of horror on that young face. Yuuri had reinforced the threat with a casual mention of his mother possibly being too disappointed to make her famous katsudon, and Plisetsky had been meek as a kitten all evening long. He even kept the secret of Santa's identity, swallowing down his laughter when he first caught sight of Viktor.

Axel, Lutz, and Loop also knew who was behind the Santa outfit, but their mother had so effectively cowed them that there was no way they'd spill the beans. Yuuri suspected that threats of confiscating every electronic device they owned had played a part in that.

After more than an hour of translating the children's requests for Viktor Yuuri had finally managed to take a break, sitting on the floor behind the counter with a glass of punch and two onigiri that he had snagged from one of the buffet tables. He had just taken a bite, trying to avoid sighing with pleasure at finally getting something to eat, when Mila appeared above his head. With a grin she gracefully vaulted over the counter and landed beside him, legs neatly folded and back against the shelves.

“He makes a spectacular Svyatoy Nikolai, doesn't he?” she asked, eyes alight with laughter. When Yuuri nodded, all too aware of his mouthful of food, she went on. “The beard is an especially nice touch.”

He swallowed and glared at her. “You wouldn't think that if you had to sleep with it,” he said, and immediately felt his face start to heat. “Uh, I mean -”

Mila's laughter broke into his fumbling words. “I know what you meant, Yura. Considering I know both of you it's hardly a difficult logical leap.” She pinched a bit of rice off of the corner of his second onigiri and popped it in her mouth. “In your place I would have grown my own beard in retaliation.”

Yuuri sighed and broke the rice ball in half, handing part to his companion. “I tried,” he said with a rueful shake of his head. “It didn't exactly work out as planned.” Mila just looked at him with her eyebrows raised and he rolled his eyes. “It grew in with about three patches of semi-thick hair and the rest was nothing. Hardly a match for the Great Russian Bear.” He jerked a thumb behind him in the general direction of where Viktor sat.

“I'm kind of surprised that he was able to grow such an impressive display,” Mila said. “Considering how often he complains about his supposedly thinning hair.”

“Yeah, I think the beard puts paid to that discussion,” Yuuri snorted. “Not that I'm about to tell him, though, because his worries about his hair put a substantial dent in his vanity.” He grinned. “There are times I like him better like that.”

“Yuuuuuuuuuri!”

“Aaaaand speak of the devil,” he grumbled to himself before adjusting his ridiculous hat and rising to his feet. “Yes, Santa?”

Viktor leaned on the counter, bringing his face close to Yuuri's. “I need my little helper,” he breathed out, fighting a grin as his elf shivered from the sensation of warm breath skating across his cheek and over his ear. He leaned in closer and pressed a feather-light kiss to Yuuri's jaw, just at the spot where it melded with the neck below his ear. “I need my little helper,” he repeated, with just enough emphasis on the word need to make the younger man's face flush.

Of course, that was the moment that Mila decided to jump to her feet, startling Viktor, who had been absorbed in Yuuri to the exclusion of most everything else. She snatched the belled hat off of Yuuri's head and put it on her own, carefully brushing her hair away from her face. “I'll help too!” she declared loudly, and before either of them could respond she was rushing out from behind the counter, smiling at all of the gathered children and shouting “Merry Christmas!” in Russian.

She crossed the room and grabbed Yurio's hand, ignoring all of his protests as she dragged him to his feet and over to the throne-like chair that sat beside the tree. “Come, Yura!” she laughed as she sat and then forced Plisetsky to fall onto her lap. He growled something that only Mila could hear but everyone saw her eyes get comically wide before she burst out laughing, hugging the young boy close even as he struggled to get away.

Viktor and Yuuri watched the back-and-forth with wide grins. Their hands drifted across the width of the counter towards each other, fingers gripping and entwining. “It's almost like watching one's children squabbling,” Viktor said as Mila more-or-less tried to suffocate Yuri against her breasts.

Yuuri snorted. “Speak for yourself, old man,” he replied. “Mila's barely five years younger than me.” Viktor's mock-offended gasp was music to his lover's ears, making Yuuri grin and boost himself on top of the counter to bring their lips closer. He tugged gently on the beard to get the Russian's undivided attention, waiting for those cerulean eyes to connect with his. “But you'll always be _my_ old man,” he whispered, leaning in until he felt the facial hair scratching at his lips. “Beard or no beard.”

Viktor rubbed his cheek against Yuuri's, chuckling as the other man scowled. “I'll shave it off if you ask me nicely,” he murmured.

But at that exact moment Yuuri got distracted by one of the Nishigori triplets trying to climb the Christmas tree and his lover's offer went unheard and unanswered.

****~**~**~**~**~****

The morning of December twenty-fifth dawned clear and cold with, for Yuuri at least, a blistering headache and a mouth figuratively packed full of cotton. He was confused about why he felt so miserable in the first moments after waking, but then he remembered how the previous evening had ended once the children's party was over. He remembered Minako's bar, at least five bottles of red wine and an almost uncountable number of vodka. He could remember his sister pouring a cup of sake and himself crossing the room just in time to prevent Yurio from drinking it.

But he had obviously not prevented himself from over-indulging, although there was the saving grace of not being sick to his stomach. The dry mouth could be combated with water, the headache with a few painkillers, and both would be improved by another couple of hours of sleep. He groaned as he rolled over and sat up in bed, only then noticing that Viktor was absent. The throbbing in his skull prevented him from thinking too deeply about that, though, so he just rose and staggered out of the room to the bathroom. He could hear voices from downstairs, in the main part of the inn, but he ignored them in favor of accomplishing his goals for that morning; namely pee, get some water, and swallow a couple of painkillers. All of that completed to his satisfaction he made his way back to the bedroom and the bed, sliding under the covers and burrowing in for more sleep.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he woke up again, but he suspected it was at least an hour. The sunlight in the room had shifted from a stripe across the foot of the bed to a swathe on the floor, and from where he lay he could see Makkachin curled up on the rug under the desk. And if Makkachin was in the room that meant -

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” a soft voice purred behind him.

Yuuri smiled and started to roll to his back, but a warm hand on his hip stilled the motion. “No, stay right there,” Viktor whispered. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise for me on _your_ birthday?” Yuuri asked, but he did as his lover asked and stayed in place, knees drawn up towards his stomach. Viktor's hand on his hip started stroking in languid circles, slipping underneath his t-shirt. In an almost instinctive movement Yuuri pushed his hips back, feeling his lips curve in a smile as his ass brushed the growing hardness between the other man's legs. Viktor's huff of laughter was warm against his neck.

“Minx.”

“It's all your fault, you know,” Yuuri replied, pushing back more insistently. “You created this _eros_ monster.”

“And normally I wouldn't have an issue with it, but right now I don't want to be distracted.” His hand moved completely underneath the t-shirt, gliding across the warm skin beneath.

Yuuri sighed, relaxing into the embrace, enjoying the gentle swell of desire in his veins. His eyes drifted closed and his head tilted back, baring his neck in an unspoken request for more contact. But his eyes flew open barely a second later when he felt Viktor snuggle his face against Yuuri's neck.

His warm, bare, soft-skinned face. Yuuri jack-knifed to a sitting position, dumping Viktor on his back. The Russian grinned up at him, rubbing a hand over his once-again hairless chin. “I know you hated it, so I got up early and had your mother help me cut it down enough so I could shave properly.” He chuckled a little self-consciously. “Happy Birthday?”

With a half-laugh, half-sob Yuuri threw himself back down on the bed, across Viktor's chest, and rubbed their cheeks together. “You idiot,” he managed to gasp out. “You're not supposed to give your boyfriend a present on your own birthday!”

Viktor's fingers threaded through the other man's hair and he lifted Yuuri's face away from his. “But a happy Yuuri is all I want for my birthday, so this works out perfect for me, don't you think?” He picked his head up from the pillows enough to bring their lips together. “I'll never want for anything as long as you're happy,” he whispered against the other's lips when the kiss ended.

“You are such a sap!” Yuuri groaned, tucking his head under Viktor's chin to hide his pleased smile and flush.

“Only for you, my love. Only for you.”

They lay together in silence, each soaking in the other's presence, before Viktor spoke again, shattering the mood. “You did get me a present though, didn't you?”

“Ass.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written before the conclusion of the anime so should probably be regarded as AU since I don't think it likely they spent Christmas in Hasetsu.


End file.
